


Fair Day

by peoriapeoria



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peoriapeoria/pseuds/peoriapeoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The partners spend a relaxing day at the fair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair Day

Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg and Sentinels are the creation of people who are not me. This story makes no claims on them. All I have is books and debts, so sueing me is pointless. Named products constitute neither an endorsement nor an infringement on copyright, but merely signal cultural pervasiveness. I apologize for any errors regarding regionalism. Thanks to Charly, who beta-read this. Remaining errors are my responsibility.  
  
If you are under 18 or 21, depending on your location, don't read this. If you are uptight, PC or otherwise easily offended, respect everybody and select other reading material. Contains a mighty Saxon word. No vegetables. Consider yourself warned.  
This came to me as a challenge (like when my prof told me not to interview a tattooist). [Redacted two sentences, comment below, was also a note of author clarification.] Do not sell, or circulate sans headers. Yes, it can be archived.  


##  Fair Day 

by  
peoriapeoria

It was a warm, sunny day, in and of itself a special treat in the Pacific Northwest.  
Even better, Jim and Blair had the day off and they were spending it at the fair.

 

"How're you doing?" Blair was aware of the noise, smells, and general  
bustle.

"Just fine." The day was a combination reward and test. All he had to  
do was enjoy the fair. "The barns are staying put."

Blair smiled at that and slapped at Jim. "Come on, let's look around before  
the rides get going." Knowing he was with the one person who couldn't lose him  
in a crowd he bounced off.

Jim was in a very good mood. His senses were settling down as a part of him. Filtering  
things down didn't require constant thought anymore. The animals, while he could  
tell where they were, didn't overwhelm the food stands. The sound of machinery didn't  
grate on him and he could still hear the music and laughter.

* * *

"Oh, come on. I'm not waiting around to look at farm equipment." Blair  
couldn't believe how crowded the exhibit hall was.

"Thought you wanted to observe people." Jim cracked a grin. "We can  
mill around and just stop at stuff you want to see." More quietly he added,  
"not like I need to be right up front."

* * *

"How can you go on those rides?" They had just gotten off the double wheel,  
which Blair nearly dragged them back into line for again.

"You should see me on rollercoasters." He raised both his arms, pulling  
one out of the wave on remembering his pineapple twist double cone. Slurping it concertedly,  
he eventually continued. "It doesn't have to make sense. Maybe it is the perceived  
safe enviroment."

"Or just because you're a big kid." Jim found himself being pulled off  
in another direction.

* * *

"So that's how you learned to drive." Paying too much attention to the  
sparking sounds and the kid bemoaning being half an inch too short for the bumper  
cars, he missed the elbow to his ribs.

"I resent that comment. One of Naomi's boyfriends taught me when I was fourteen.  
A professional driver."

"A professional driver?" *You can't be serious.* "What, a New York  
cabbie?" That Jim could almost believe. Almost.

"No. I was only six then." *But I do have some interesting Armenian vocabulary  
words.* Among other languages.

"I can't see her dating a chauffeur."

"Well... No, actually he drove a school bus."

*Gets better and better.* Jim had been leading them to the Pronto Pup stand during  
the conversation. "That explains a lot."

"Hey, that was just his day job. He was in derbies." *Demolition derbies.*

* * *

"In all your travels you _haven't_ had funnelcake?"

"You seem to take that pretty seriously. Anything to do with it being a sugar-covered,  
fried batter?" Blair leapt out of the way before Jim could bat at him. "Actually,  
looks a lot like Elephant Ears."

* * *

"What is that?" Blair was trying to hand him a large stuffed animal.

"A black panther." *Or leopard. Cougar?* Definitely a big cat of some  
sort. "I won it at the milk bottle toss."

"Blair..." Somehow, he ended up left holding the cat.

* * *

  
Despite being convinced people were staring at him, because of the damn toy Blair  
made him carry, Jim had enjoyed the remainder of the fair. He still couldn't believe  
they'd gotten through a day off without a hostage situation, bomb threat or loose  
psychopath. Reuniting the little kid with his mom had taken only about five minutes,  
mostly because it took time to calm him down and prove that Jim really was a cop.

 

Blair unlocked the door to the loft. "That was great." He smirked at Jim  
with the panther under his arm. "I think just about the archetypal perfect day  
at the fair."

"Not quite." Before Blair could question the statement, the stuffed animal  
was dropped, and replaced with himself.

"Jim." Up the stairs. "Put me down." His feet were returned  
to the floor, but his wrists were held. "Jim." Buttons undone.

Jim undressed Blair best as he could without letting go of his hands. *Good thing  
you don't tie your shoes very tight.* The result was one sock-clad Blair with an  
open shirt, on the bed. Soon followed by Jim still wearing a t-shirt, unable to remove  
it while holding Blair. Fumbling through the nightstand drawer, he found what he  
was searching for.

One. Two. Three fingers. And a slow, strong glide.

* * *

  
"What possessed you?"

"You always react this strongly to stuffed animals?" Blair tried to squirm  
away from the tickling. *Gotta get a Gund.*

"That was not a thank-you fuck." Jim whacked Blair with the now removed  
t-shirt.

"Oh, really."

"That was a 'I've-wanted-to-touch-you-all-day-and-I-had-to-hold-acrylic-and-styrene-instead'  
screw. What were you thinking with that double cone?"

Blair exhaled abruptly. Blinked his eyes. "That you can only get them at the  
fair.  
How long have you felt you were Freud?" The last part was delivered in accent.  
"Sorry about the panther." He tipped his chin down.

*What have I done now?* Clearly this was important to Blair, though Jim didn't understand  
why or how. "Why?"

"It's stupid." He was tantalized into continuing. "I won it for you."  
*He doesn't get it. _Really_ stupid.* "For you."

*He couldn't.* Jim realized Blair meant exactly that. He kissed him right between  
the eyes. "Thank you." Now he felt bad about the stretched Pepsi bottle  
he had won in retaliation.

The End.


End file.
